**** is like nothing you’ve ever experienced
in the worst way possible

once you’ve been *****
everything becomes a threat
you are scared of
absolutely everything

friends asking you to come hang out on a friday night
turns into a thought about how many people would be there
and how many people could touch you
a walk to the grocery store becomes a blueprint plan
because you need to figure out which streets are bad
and which streets are the worst
a stranger saying a friendly good morning or a simple hello
turns into a potential perpetrator
and an escape mission
a boy flirting with you because he thinks you’re cute
turns into a panic attack
and an immediate phone call to the first person on your contact list

once you’ve been *****
you realize how many people don’t care
your friends and family are there for the week
and then they’re gone

once you’ve spoken out
you’re told to keep quiet
and once you’ve gained courage
the police shut you down

“it’s his word against yours”
well why can’t my word be the stronger one
why is it my fault he did this to me
“you should have kept your legs closed”
when?
while he was prying them open to force himself upon me?

you don’t know what its like
and i don’t expect you to
but don’t pretend that you know whats best
and that you know what happened
don’t pretend you know all the things to say
and don’t blame me for something i didn’t do

i didn’t force myself upon anyone
but i was certainly forced to do something i didn’t want to do
and was told i should’ve covered up more
even though a wool sweater and leggings covered my body well
but apparently thats not good enough
nothing ever is good enough

i cannot possibly speak out about this
and be successful
so i’ll write this poem to support those
who have been victims of ****** assault
i’m here for you and its not your fault